Bramblestar's Storm

  “It’s okay, Purdy,” Millie reassured him. “It’s only Briarlight.” She turned to Graystripe, her eyes glowing with pride. “Just look what she can do!”

  Briarlight repeated her exercise, while her mother and father stood close together to watch, their pelts brushing. Bramblestar felt his heart warmed, his troubles fading for a moment.

  Movement behind Bramblestar distracted him and he turned, expecting to see Jessy. But the newcomer was Squirrelflight.

  “You’re going to take us into battle against those badgers, aren’t you?” she mewed, coming to sit beside him.

  Bramblestar nodded; until that moment he hadn’t realized that he had made the decision.

  “Why would you risk your own Clan to help Tawnypelt and ShadowClan?” Squirrelflight asked.

  Bramblestar thought of the scene he had just watched in the clearing. He knew that it might be destroyed if he went ahead with his plan. But it didn’t change a thing in his mind.

  “Because I’d do anything to help my sister,” he meowed, meeting his deputy’s green gaze. “As would you.”

  As he spoke, Bramblestar finally understood why Squirrelflight had lied to him about the kits. He had already forgiven her, because he knew that she had been trying to do the best for every cat, but only now did he appreciate the impulse that had made her build so much upon something that wasn’t true. “That’s why you did what you did, isn’t it? You took Leafpool’s kits because you loved her.”

  Squirrelflight nodded, her eyes so full of feeling that he guessed she couldn’t find words to answer.

  “I have nothing but respect for your courage,” he told her. Looking down into the clearing again, he saw Lionblaze sprawled contentedly beside his mate, and Jayfeather happily bossing Briarlight around. “We raised three fine cats,” he mewed, remembering Hollyleaf’s brave death when she sacrificed herself to save Ivypool.

  He and Squirrelflight sat in silence, gazing down at their kits and their other Clanmates, cheerful in the sunlight below. Bramblestar felt Squirrelflight’s fur touch his, and he felt closer to her than he had for seasons, as if the glow of sunshine was enfolding them.

  “I’ll support you, Bramblestar,” Squirrelflight murmured. “If you want to take ThunderClan into battle on ShadowClan’s behalf, I will be with you.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Bramblestar scrambled to the top of the mudpile. “Let all cats who are old enough to catch their own prey join here outside the tunnel for a Clan meeting!” he yowled.

  The cats who were already outside looked up at him curiously, then clustered closer together at the foot of the mudpile. Leafpool emerged from the tunnel with Sandstorm and Purdy. Daisy and the apprentices trotted out of the undergrowth carrying balls of moss, which they dropped near the tunnel entrance before sitting down to listen. Jessy sprang down from the branch of a tree, where she had been practicing climbing techniques with Frankie and Minty.

  Bramblestar looked down at his Clan and took a deep breath. They aren’t going to like what I have to tell them.

  “Cats of ThunderClan,” he began. “I’ve thought hard about this, and I’ve come to a decision. It’s possible that ShadowClan will drive out the badgers by themselves, but if that doesn’t happen within the next quarter moon, then we will help them.”

  “What?” Thornclaw sprang to his paws. “Have you got bees in your brain?”

  “After what Rowanstar said to you?” Dustpelt challenged.

  Daisy was looking up at Bramblestar with outrage in her eyes. “Must mothers watch their kits die again?”

  More angry yowls rose up from the rest of the Clan. Bramblestar felt as if he were standing in the blast from a storm, and he dug his claws deep into the mud as if he was afraid of being swept away. For a moment he was tempted to start justifying himself. No, he thought, the word of the Clan leader has to be obeyed. It is part of the warrior code.

  But Bramblestar was still worried that he was wrong. This was the first decision he had made as Clan leader that was unpopular with all his Clan—except for Squirrelflight, standing silently supportive above the tunnel entrance, and Jessy, who was watching him with bright eyes and ears pricked. I respect each one of these warriors, he thought unhappily. I don’t like it when they challenge me.

  “We will begin training at once, so we can be ready,” he finished curtly, and jumped down from the mudpile.

  His paws had scarcely touched the ground when Daisy pushed her way through the crowd of cats. “I chose to stay with ThunderClan because I trusted that my kits and I would be kept safe,” she told him, her normally gentle voice deepened to a growl. “I thought I could trust you, too, Bramblestar. Why do we need to face danger again so soon?”

  Before Bramblestar could reply, Jessy skirted the nearest group of cats to stand at his side. “You’re a Clan cat through and through,” she told Daisy with a respectful nod of her head. “You’ve had courage to survive in the past, and you’ll survive again.”

  Daisy twitched her ears, as if she wasn’t sure if she should be offended by a kittypet telling her how to behave. “But that doesn’t mean we have to go looking for trouble,” she protested.

  “Sooner or later, trouble will come to you,” Jessy meowed. “I’ve learned that much about living in a Clan! Bramblestar’s right to deal with the badgers now, before they try to take over ThunderClan territory.”

  Daisy was silent for a moment. At last she raised her eyes to gaze directly at Bramblestar. “You’re our Clan leader,” she mewed. “I trust you. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Thank you, Daisy.” Bramblestar dipped his head. “No warrior should enjoy going into battle. But sometimes we have no other option. Thanks, Jessy,” he added when Daisy had walked away. “You said exactly the right thing.” He let out a long sigh. “I wish I felt as certain about this as my Clanmates think I am,” he confessed. “Would Firestar have done this? Probably not,” he answered his own question. “He had no kin in ShadowClan. Oh, for StarClan’s sake, why does this have to be so difficult?”

  “Well, you can’t change your mind now,” Jessy pointed out.

  Murmuring agreement, Bramblestar turned toward the rest of his Clanmates. They were clustered around Squirrelflight, who was organizing them into groups to train for the battle.

  “I don’t see why we’re doing this,” Mousewhisker grumbled. “The badgers are ShadowClan’s problem.”

  “And I’m your problem,” Squirrelflight flashed back at him. “So just get on with it.”

  She continued quietly dividing up the groups. Bramblestar noticed that she was choosing cats who had taken part in the battle against the badgers in the hollow, so many seasons ago, to lead the training. Graystripe, Brackenfur, and Cloudtail gathered younger warriors around them, and Squirrelflight led another group herself, including all three kittypets.

  “Remember that some of us have fought badgers before,” she reminded them when the groups were ready. “We know what works and what doesn’t. The badgers are a lot bigger and stronger than you, so you should focus on what you do better than them: moving swiftly, darting in to strike, and getting out of range before they can retaliate. Work in pairs, with one of you distracting the badger while the other gets a blow in. And don’t forget that you can jump onto their backs. It’s far harder for them to throw you off than it would be for another cat.”

  Bramblestar joined Brackenfur’s group, with Ivypool, Snowpaw, Poppyfrost, and Lilypaw. Brackenfur took a pace back, prepared to give up the leadership to Bramblestar, but Bramblestar shook his head and gestured with his tail to tell Brackenfur to go on.

  Brackenfur led his group up toward the ridge until they found a clearing. “Right,” he meowed. “We’ll start with the move Squirrelflight mentioned, leaping onto the badger’s back. It’s a good tactic, because up there the badger can’t get at you. Snowpaw, do you want to start? I’ll be the badger.”

  While Snowpaw faced up to Brackenfur, Bramblestar spotted a gap between the trees a
nd padded over to gaze across into ShadowClan’s territory. I wonder what’s happening over there? What are the badgers doing? Is Rowanstar able to deal with them after all?

  Turning back into the clearing, he saw that Snowpaw and Lilypaw were having trouble learning the move. They should have been able to use their speed to spring up and balance on the badger’s shoulder, to claw its fur, or even topple it off its paws. But they couldn’t stay on Brackenfur’s back for more than a couple of heartbeats before they fell off. Their waving legs and exposed bellies made them vulnerable before they could scramble upright again. Even though Lilypaw was older and more experienced, she was so small that she had the same difficulties as Snowpaw.

  “I’d have eaten you both by now,” Brackenfur meowed frustratedly.

  Bramblestar was about to offer his help when Ivypool stepped forward. “Listen,” she hissed. “The badgers are going to tear you apart if you don’t shape up. When you leap, dig your claws in hard. Bite down on their neck, and if you can get close enough, rip their eyelids and claw out their eyes.”

  Ivypool’s voice was low but powerful, and for a moment Bramblestar was shocked by her ruthless advice. Then he remembered the many moons that Ivypool had spent being trained in the Dark Forest. She had learned more savagery there than most warriors could imagine. Thornclaw, Blossomfall, and Birchfall must know how to fight like this, too, he thought. At least their experiences will be useful here.

  When the apprentices tried the move again, Bramblestar could see the effects of Ivypool’s advice. They kept their balance, their claws digging into Brackenfur’s back. Lilypaw bent over Brackenfur’s shoulder until her ears almost brushed the grass and hooked his paws out from under him. As he fell onto his side, Snowpaw flexed his claws, aiming for Brackenfur’s eyes.

  “Hey!” Brackenfur yowled. “Don’t do that for real!”

  Snowpaw leaped back, giving Brackenfur the chance to haul himself back onto his paws. “Sorry,” he mewed. “I got carried away.”

  “No harm done,” Brackenfur responded.

  Ivypool gave an approving nod. “Much better. That was fierce.”

  When his patrol returned to the camp, Bramblestar noticed that the atmosphere had improved. All the cats were discussing the battle practice, the younger warriors especially pleased with what they had learned. Even though Bramblestar figured they were still not thrilled about going into battle on behalf of another Clan, there was a new sense of purpose and pride in their skills.

  “I think they’ll be okay,” Squirrelflight remarked, padding up to him where he sat at the foot of the mudpile.

  “How did you get on with the kittypets?” Bramblestar asked.

  “Frankie and Jessy did well,” Squirrelflight replied. “But Minty has no confidence at all.”

  Bramblestar nodded. “She’s not bred to fight. And they’re kittypets: Can we even ask them to take part in this battle at all?”

  “Jessy and Frankie are keen to join in,” Squirrelflight told him. “I can’t stop them.”

  Daisy poked her head out of the tunnel; clearly she had overheard what they were discussing. “Minty could stay behind with me and the other cats who don’t fight,” she meowed. “You can’t risk the lives of your entire Clan. This isn’t the battle against the Dark Forest all over again.”

  Bramblestar nodded. “Who else do you think should stay behind?”

  “Enough warriors to defend the camp,” Daisy meowed. “Maybe Brackenfur and Spiderleg, for a start.” She gave her whiskers a twitch. “I’d ask Graystripe and Dustpelt, too, but it’s no use expecting those gray muzzles to listen to me!”

  While she was speaking, Leafpool emerged from the bushes with a mouthful of chervil and padded up to Bramblestar. She set down her bundle of herbs and waited patiently for a chance to speak.

  “Do you need something?” Bramblestar mewed.

  “It’s about Cinderheart.” Leafpool looked troubled. “I think she should stay here in camp, too.”

  Baffled, Bramblestar exchanged a glance with Squirrelflight. Was there a problem with Cinderheart that he didn’t know about? Squirrelflight shrugged. “Why do you think that?” Bramblestar prompted.

  Leafpool hesitated. “I just don’t think you can expect Cinderheart to face badgers.”

  “Okay.” Bramblestar was still puzzled. “If she wants to stay behind, that’s fine by me.”

  “No, I want you to tell her—” Leafpool began, then broke off.

  Bramblestar had a feeling that his medicine cat knew something she wasn’t telling him. “I can’t force Cinderheart not to fight,” he meowed. “She is a warrior, after all.”

  Leafpool sighed, shaking her head, then picked up her bunch of chervil and headed into the tunnel. A cold trickle of apprehension crept down Bramblestar’s spine, and after a heartbeat’s hesitation he followed her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Have you had a bad omen about this battle?”

  Leafpool stopped and faced him, her blue eyes clouded with distress. In a rush Bramblestar remembered the last battle against the badgers, in the hollow. Leafpool had returned to find the whole camp in torment and her mentor, Cinderpelt, dying in the nursery, torn apart by a badger as she protected Sorreltail while she gave birth. Mouse-brain! he scolded himself. No wonder the thought of fighting badgers frightens her.

  “It won’t be like the last time,” he promised. “These badgers won’t come anywhere near where we live. I will keep our Clanmates safe.”

  “Thank you, Bramblestar.” Leafpool’s response was quiet, and Bramblestar sensed that for some reason she still wasn’t reassured.

  When he headed out of the tunnel again, the sun was setting, the long shadows of the trees already covering the clearing. Above the topmost branches, scarlet light was fading from a sky barred with cloud, and a single warrior of StarClan shone overhead. Bramblestar spotted Jessy choosing prey from the fresh-kill pile, and padded over to join her. As he drew closer he noticed that one of her ears was scratched and she had lost a tuft of fur from near her tail.

  “You look a bit battered from the training,” he commented as he joined her. “You know, you don’t have to fight.”

  Jessy looked up from her blackbird and narrowed her eyes. “If I choose to fight, will you stop me?”

  “Of course not,” Bramblestar replied. He felt a warm glow of admiration for her courage, her readiness to fight on behalf of cats she had known for barely a moon, and he leaned closer to her until his shoulder rested on her flank. Jessy jerked backward, wincing and drawing in a sharp, hissing breath.

  “Sorry,” she mewed. “I’ve got a massive bruise there.”

  “I hope your opponent has one, too,” Bramblestar responded.

  Jessy’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Let’s just say that Birchfall will take kittypets more seriously from now on!”

  The sun had cleared the tops of the trees by the time Bramblestar ventured into ShadowClan territory at the head of a border patrol. Two sunrises had passed since his decision to go into battle, and there had been no more news from ShadowClan. Previous patrols had found more fresh scent, more traces of blood, but no sign of cats or badgers.

  Something has to happen soon, Bramblestar thought.

  The forest was silent as he brushed through the long grass, with Dovewing, Cherryfall, and Molewhisker behind him. His ears were pricked and his jaws parted to taste the air. At every paw step his gaze darted around to make sure that nothing unexpected was creeping up on them. Dovewing looked strained and anxious, and Bramblestar guessed that she was still trying to hear as far as she had before the Great Battle. I’d love to know what’s going on in ShadowClan, Bramblestar thought. But I’m not going to tell her that!

  He halted as he breathed in a familiar scent. Tawnypelt! “You go on ahead,” he told the others. “Dovewing, take the lead.”

  When the rest of his patrol had vanished into the undergrowth, Bramblestar followed his sister’s scent trail until he spotted her pushing her way out from a
clump of ferns, with a mouse hanging limply in her jaws.

  “Tawnypelt!” he meowed in a low voice.

  His sister stiffened, then whipped around to face him, so startled that she dropped the mouse. “Bramblestar! Get out—there’s a patrol in the trees over there.”

  Bramblestar beckoned with his tail. “Come here, then.”

  Tawnypelt snatched up her prey and sped toward him; together they slid under the low-growing branches of a holly bush.

  “ThunderClan will help ShadowClan attack the badgers,” Bramblestar told his sister, his voice rapid and urgent. “But we need to know what’s happening. Has Rowanstar planned a strike?”

  Tawnypelt’s green eyes widened in astonishment. “You’ll do that with your whole Clan?”

  Bramblestar gave her a terse nod. “Don’t try to talk me out of it. I know you need help—and we don’t want badgers settling in these woods either.”

  Tawnypelt rested her tail-tip on his flank. “I asked for your help. I’m not going to turn it down now.”

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Bramblestar prompted.

  “Rowanstar plans to attack tomorrow night,” his sister meowed, “before the moon gets any brighter.”

  “Okay. We’ll be there.”

  “Tawnypelt!” A cat yowled in the distance.

  “I’ve got to go,” Tawnypelt muttered. “Thanks, Bramblestar.” She wriggled out on her belly from under the bush and disappeared.

  Bramblestar tracked down the rest of his patrol and returned to camp, where he found Squirrelflight and his other Clanmates returning from battle practice.

  “I saw Tawnypelt,” he told his deputy. “She says that Rowanstar is planning to attack the badgers tomorrow night.”

  “This is it, then.” Squirrelflight flexed her claws. “Well, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

  In the clearing outside the tunnel, all the talk was of the forthcoming battle as Bramblestar’s Clanmates discussed different moves, arguing about which ones worked best. Suddenly feeling in need of some space, he headed down the slope toward the lake.